


A Warehouse Wedding

by Racethewind_10



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3101513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Racethewind_10/pseuds/Racethewind_10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one denies, though, when H.G. finally got around to asking, she did it properly. </p>
<p>Or, Helena has terrible timing but finally asks Myka to marry her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr gifset and then a prompt. 
> 
> Some minor violence (nothing worse than the show itself) and a gunshot wound (non fatal)

It started with [this gifset ](http://fuckyeahpikacha.tumblr.com/post/14711209152/wallacewellsbian-magicmumu-bffewylion) and then this [prompt](http://racethewind10.tumblr.com/post/14820311549/but-what-sort-of-occasion-calls-for-the-wearing-of) 

* * *

 

Years later, it would become a familiar joke, as comfortable and well-worn as the faded grey hoodie with cracked blue letters spelling NAVY on the front that Myka stole from Pete’s closet their first year at the Warehouse and never gave back. Helena would roll her eyes and pretend to huff and Pete would grin like the overgrown child he was and Myka – if present – would sigh and shake her head and admonish ‘ _children, behave’_ with a smile tugging the corners of her lips because honestly. Still, no one could deny it was true; Helena had been such a  _guy_ about the proposal. It took her foreverto work up the courage, and even then, it only happened because they all nearly died.  _Again_.

Helena has her own countermeasure to the teasing, though it depends on Myka’s presence, it has contributed at least a moderate improvement of Pete’s behavior. It’s simple enough really, all Helena has to do is let a wistful smile bloom on her lips and _look_ at her wife who even a decade later can’t resist the silent promise in dark eyes. With the predictability and heat of a chemical reaction they will drift toward each other, sometimes constrained by the dictates of being in public but always finding a way to connect, even if only with a brush of hands across a table.  The result being that Pete rolls his eyes and does his level best to leave whatever room they happen to be in, because if they’re at home or in the Warehouse, the outcome of that look is as sure as the pull of gravity and a big brother hates watching someone kiss his sister. Even if that someone is pretty hot.

No one denies, though, when H.G. finally got around to asking, she did it properly.

 

* * *

 

Unsurprising given their chosen vocation, the whole thing happened during a mission that went, well…badly. On the trail of an artifact made of pure gold, Pete and Myka were captured by some Russian mob guys who had a very significantinterest in said artifact. Said mob guys also decided that the best method for getting information about the artifact was the  _old fashioned_ way.

Pete still remembers the way his heart threatened to beat its way out of his chest when they'd tied him to a chair in the middle of the abandoned meet packing plant and one of them started playing with a pair of jumper cables attached to a battery. A former Marine, he could control his reactions, his face revealing nothing. He would never show fear. That didn't mean he didn't feel it.

And then somehowHelena had shown up - she admitted later she'd put a tracking device in Myka's shoe - and taken on the bad guys.

It started fairly evenly since Helena had the Tesla, but one of the Russians was a hell of a shot and Pete remembered the sudden horror of seeing Helena go spinning backwards, blood blooming like a grotesque flower across her shoulder. Then an enraged scream cut across the room and Pete craned his head to see the shooter fall, grasping his  _own_ shoulder. The still-tied agent had almost laughed. H.G. had that damn Corsican vest again. And Pete had never been so glad.

The shock gave the artificer a moment of grace and she used it to stagger over to Pete and untie him. After that, things got a bit  _exciting_ – even by their definitions – for a few moments and the next thing Pete knew, he and H.G. were standing in the middle of a pile of unconscious Russian mob guys.

"Myka?" Helena's hoarse whisper brought the agent to his senses and he turned and ran to the room they'd held his partner in.

They found Myka pacing like an enraged tiger in a tiny room that had probably once been a walk-in fridge, ready to kill anything that came for her. Upon realizing it was H.G. and her partner, however, the agent let out a shaky laugh, grinning from ear to ear and shaking her head at Pete. He expected Helena to have some saucy little quip ready for the occasion. Instead, the author took a tentative step forward, gave a tiny sound of relief and collapsed. It was only Myka's quick reflexes that kept the wounded woman from hitting the floor in a heap.

As it was, Myka lowered Helena gently to her knees, hands searching restlessly as if she couldn't touch the other woman enough. "Damnit Helena what did you do to yourself?" Myka muttered, and Pete was only a little shocked to see her eyes shine with un-shed tears. He knew the two of them were crazy about each other, but it just seemed like they'd been stuck _,_ afraid toreallymake it official. (Pete and Claudia were currently in the middle of constructing a list of possible methods to force Myka and H.G. to admit their feelings to each other. Current first place contender included simply locking them in a room until they were ready to admit how much they meant to each other. Simple, possibly effective, but also carrying a high probability that the situation would just end with a dismantled door and himself in very real danger of being skewered, he and Claudia were still considering other options).

So he was  _very_ shocked when Helena reached up a trembling hand and cupped Myka's cheek. "I had to save you. I can'tlose you, and I am so  _very_ tired of almost doing so," she whispered.

At this point, Pete was starting to feel like maybe he should be somewhere else, but H.G. was out of commission and Myka was clearly not paying attention to anyone but her and if those Russian guys woke up before Artie got back, they were all dead.

"Helena I…you nearly got yourself killed!" Myka voice actually brokeand that was when Pete figured maybe,  _finally_  they might have come to their senses.

"It's just a scratch," the smaller woman's voice was too weak to really carry the joke, but Myka still gave a watery smile. "And I would do it again. In an instant." This time there was no humor, only a resolve as hard as purest steel.

"Helena I…"

Helena's uninjured hand fumbled in her pocket for a moment and then the kneeling woman pulled out a small black velvet box. Pete felt his eyes go wide.

"I will  _never_ stop trying to protect you, Myka Bering…would you letme?"

Myka looked like she was torn between crying and smiling as with visible effort, Helena levered herself up so she knelt on one knee.

"Myka Bering, would you do me the honor of being my wife?" The artificer asked and shakily held out a ring even Pete had to admit was pretty damn gorgeous.

And then Myka really wascrying and smiling and nodding yes at the same time and Pete wanted to jump in the air and should  _'finally!'_ Survival instinct kicking in, however, he just bit his lip hard and kept his mouth shut, resolving to remember all this so he could give Claudia all the details (if he didn't, she'd kill him).

When Artie and Claudia came running around the corner a few minutes later, they found Myka and Helena kneeling together, wrapped in each other's arms and Pete practically dancing behind them.

Claudia got it in about two seconds. They had to explain things a bit to Artie.

Thankfully, the bullet wound in Helena's shoulder was a through and through, but she'd lost a lot of blood and at Artie's very vocal insistence, she and Myka had spent the first night of their engagement in the hospital: Helena because she needed minor surgery, Myka because she point-blank refused to leave her side.

Pete and Claudia snuck into the hospital early the next morning to spring Helena, knowing how much she hated the place. When they cracked the door, however, they found their friends asleep on Helena's bed. Myka had somehow managed to fit her lanky form onto the narrow space and was curled against Helena's uninjured side.

Claudia caught Pete's gaze, and the suspicious shine he saw in his young friend's gaze was totally understandable.

"We should just let them sleep," the redhead whispered, wiping her eyes quickly.

Pete just nodded, a grin stretching his lips. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "We can just give them a hard time later."

Claudia's answering smile was wicked. "Oh yes we can."

And true to form, they did

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stupid fluffy wedding fic

 Myka fiddled with her dress, long fingers playing over smooth fabric, unable to totally quell her nerves. It was a futile endeavor really, there was nothing to fiddle with.  The simple white, backless silk sheath clung to her form, flattering without being _too_ revealing and Myka – who had never been the ‘pretty one’ looked at her reflection in the mirror and felt…beautiful.   Her hair fell once again in gentle curls (she still wasn’t sure she liked them, but the way Helena asked her, the soft look in those dark eyes… Myka could never refuse that).  She wore a necklace from Vanessa, a blue garter from Claudia (and the redhead’s smug expression when she’d handed it over ensured Myka had  _not_ asked where it came from) the dress was new and the simple silver bracelet at her wrist was old. (Very old, it belonged to English royalty from the 1500’s. Helena’s idea). 

She was as ready as any bride ever was, and yet standing in her room, staring at the woman looking back at her from the glass, Myka still felt as if it were all happening to someone else.  She had never been this girl, to daydream about a dress and a ring, an efforts to visual a day like today had resulted in something as bland and vague as a magazine cutout, the face waiting for her at the end of the aisle blurred and unknowable. Even with Sam, despite the strength of what she felt for him, there had never been talk of wedding vows. They’d been too caught up in the heat between them, too young and hellbent on climbing ranks in the Service.

She’d never stopped to think about a future with Sam and then it was ripped from her anyway.

Shaking her head, Myka glanced out the window, focusing on the sun pouring through the glass and spilling onto the floor,  tiny dust motes glittering as they passed through the light. Today was not a day to think about what had been. Today was for the future.

Her future.

The one that just thinking about sent her heart climbing into her throat and made her fingers tremble where they traced the seam of her dress, not with fear but the giddy anticipation you got at the very top of a rollercoaster.

Maybe there was a reason they called it ‘taking the plunge.’   
  
It was almost time for hers.

In a few more minutes, Pete would come get her to join the rest of her family and start a new chapter. She would walk down the “aisle” of grass in the back orchard where Claudia and Steve had been hard at work draping the trees with white and gold ribbon. Leena (who was apparently ordained.  _That_  had been a surprise) agreed to perform their vows, Claudia would hold the rings. Artie and Vanessa volunteered (readily and with much excitement in Vanessa’s case and a ‘harumph’ in Artie’s that Vanessa translated as “I’d be honored”) to be their witnesses. Her parents arrived yesterday afternoon and were already seated.

Pete and Myka had a bet about whether or not Mrs. F would show up.   
  
It was as far from “normal” as just about any part of their lives anymore, but there was a smile tugging at her lips she didn’t try to resist. It felt  _right_.  _This_ was her family now, and she was beyond happy that she could share this day with them. It may not have been something she’d ever dreamed herself doing, but there was no doubt in Myka’s heart at this moment. 

* * *

 

An obnoxiously loud knock signaled the presence of her partner on the other side of the door. “Hey, Mykes, you ready?” He asked without waiting for a response, walking in with one hand covering his eyes. 

Myka rolled hers and grinned. “Yes, I’m decent, and I’m ready.”  
  
A grown-up toddler most of the time, Pete’s face when he looked at her was soft. “You look beautiful, Myka,” he smiled gently. It brought tears to sting the backs of her eyes and she covered by hugging him tightly. 

"Yeah, yeah okay, let’s go get you hitched," Pete grinned, bouncing on his toes once again, then bowing low and putting on a snotty upper class accent. "May I have this, the honor of escorting you, my lady?"

Myka punched him in the shoulder. 

        

* * *

 

 

Overhead the sky was crystalline blue, interrupted only by a fluffy white cloud or two. Steve and Claudia really had outdone themselves and the trees of the orchard glittered. Leena looked radiant in a simple blue dress and in front of her…  
  
Helena’s request of Myka had been the hair. Myka’s request of Helena had been she wear a vest. So the woman standing at the end of the grassy lane wore black tuxedo pants, a crisp white button down and a black vest that hugged her slim figure.  With her creamy skin and jet black hair she looked…breathtaking. Even Pete gave a little whistle under his breath. 

Myka punched his arm again. 

The ceremony was simple, but Myka barely remembered it. All she remembered was Helena’s eyes, dark and shining and holding her tighter than the grip of their entwined hands.   
  
Both women were, however, paying enough attention to get the kissing of the bride part right, and even Artie grinned as the others clapped and cheered and Helena dipped her.

Normal? No, but then, this was the Warehouse and nothing ever was. And in the end, Myka won the bet. Mrs. F not only came for the ceremony, but there was a suspicious shine in her eyes as Myka and Helena walked back down aisle, together, for as long as they both would live.  

 

FIN


End file.
